


Tarmac

by indigospacehopper



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, I have no idea what tags to use, M/M, Prompt Fic, Regrets, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigospacehopper/pseuds/indigospacehopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why do people always realise things too late? And whoever thought that making a vow would be a good thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarmac

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic based on 'I'm Not The Only One' by Sam Smith, and the prompt was from @kamiibodi.
> 
> It's also dedicated to them :) 
> 
> (P.S - You can find them on Instagram)

"Mary and John. Whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there. Always." 

The words wrung hollow. It was so distant, so horribly obtuse that it caused him to wonder whether Sherlock had been deliberately cruel. The vow echoed around John's head as he stared guilty at the tarmac. The hem of the so easily recognisable coat had flipped around the side of the plane door and John bowed his head, as though mourning a fallen comrade. Still failing to believe however that this was the second time he'd be gone forever. 

He jumped slightly as Mary gripped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He would have been thankful for the comfort, but it wasn't her comfort that he wanted. The comfort he wanted was buckling his seatbelt, ready for take off. 

The wind started to pick up around them, and Mary huddled herself closer if John. John wrapped a reassuring arm around her; but it wasn't her who he was trying to persuade that everything would be alright. 

He felt let down. He'd thought that the vow had meant something, but apparently it was just a lie. How could he be there if he was so far away? John started chewing vigorously on his lip, willing himself not to start blubbering. He'd be damned if he cried over Sherlock Holmes again. Although he supposed that that was just the way it went. You care about someone, they leave, you end up with a lifetime of hurt. The constant guiltiness of not saying what was meant to be said; he supposed that that's how he knew it was real. 

But what had been real? He wasn't just losing a best friend, he was losing a soul mate. He'd experienced it before of course, and Lord knows he didn't handle those two years well. But the fact that he was virtually reliving it again made him want to go to bed and never wake up.

It felt odd, referring to Sherlock as his soulmate. He wasn't even sure what he felt for the man. Was it simply a bromance that cut so deep that the pain of losing him was excruciating? Or was it more than that? John had always had his suspicions, but had always tossed them aside and marked them as void. All he knew was that he needed Sherlock to be there, and not so far away. 

He'd first had his doubts when he'd charged into the drugs den to find Sherlock in there. Since the wedding, they'd lost contact. He knew it was his fault, utterly and completely, but the thought of Sherlock rolling around getting high and laying on some dirty mattress made him feel nauseous. And all the possibly paths that led to it all wound back to him. 

Surely that's what had driven him to it? Magnussen or not, Sherlock had been on a low - opposed to the high he was trying to compensate it with. John was in no position to admit, or think about, how he felt about Sherlock Holmes. He was happily with Mary after all. But now he realised what that must have been like for Sherlock, if his suspicions were true. 

But did he reciprocate those particular ideas? John had always denied it. He was forever clarifying that he wasn't Sherlock's boyfriend, and frankly grew quite angry at the constant misconceptions. How had that been for Sherlock? John had never once heard Sherlock deny those feelings, so did that make them true? How would he feel if he loved someone and they continuously dispelled any potential relationship? But he'd kept it hidden. Because that's what Sherlock did. John had Sherlock's heart clenched in his fist and he had no idea. How could he have missed it?

"You see but you don't observe..."

John rubbed his ear against his shoulder. Who knew what was going on in Sherlock's head, whether he did actually have 'those types of feelings' towards John or not. All John knew was that he himself felt like a part of himself was leaving on that plane. If anything, it made John question his loyalty to his wife.

Because, after all, he did love Sherlock. He'd loved him from the moment he'd pulled out his gun and killed someone for him. Not particularly romantic, he had to admit, but it had happened. John Watson loved Sherlock Holmes. He had done so for a good many years, but now the chances of speaking any words left unsaid were leaving. The engine of the plane was starting and Sherlock was going with it.

How had he been so blind? He'd torn them apart by subconsciously lying about how he felt, and now Sherlock was leaving and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew what six months meant, otherwise Sherlock would have been happier to leave. He'd be gone for six months and then he'd back, ready to be the hopeless godfather John had wanted him to be. It was his own fault. 

Someone ordered them to step back as the plane began its run along the runway. The rain started as the wheels left the ground, and John felt like dissolving into nothingness. 

Because Sherlock wasn't there. The vow he had made was a lie, and it was only when Sherlock was leaving that John realised that he wasn't the only one in this relationship of misplaced feelings.


End file.
